The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            Jack: Hey—here’s my number so we can text instead of going through the app.

            Hallie snorted as she added him to her contacts. You’re so obsessed with me it’s disgusting. Here’s my number.

            Jack: Pretty quick with those digits, Piper.

            Hallie: Pretty lame with those comebacks, Marshall.

            Hallie’s phone started ringing, which startled her for a quick second before it made her laugh.

            “Why are you calling me?” she asked.

            “I had to test the number and make sure it wasn’t a fake,” he said, and her brain immediately recalled that deep voice from the wedding night.

            “So now you know.”

            “I do.” Hallie heard him clear his throat, like he was about to launch into a business presentation, and he said, “So, Hal. Listen. My sister told me about this speed dating event tomorrow night for young professionals. I wasn’t going to go, but the whole setup kind of makes sense for our situation, and since we’re both on the hunt . . .”

            “Are you kidding me right now?” She’d never done speed dating, but she was fairly certain she would fail spectacularly at it. “I didn’t think speed dating was a thing anymore.”

            “I have a flyer,” he said.

            “That sounds culty,” she replied.

            “Just come, you chickenshit.”

            Hallie shook her head and said, “Text me a pic of the flyer and where we should meet. I’ll go, but only because I have a roommate issue I don’t want to deal with.”

            “What’s her deal? Does she party all night? Eat all your food? Get too loud when she’s entertaining visitors?”

            “No,” Hallie said. “I’m moving into my own place, and I’m scared to tell her because I don’t want her to feel sad.”

            “Oh, my God, Hallie, are you a tender little sweetheart of a girl? I did not get that vibe from you. Although, to be fair, you bit my shoulder so hard it left a bruise, so it might’ve left a bad—and literal—impression on me.”

            Her mouth dropped open. Hallie was torn between wanting to tell him to shut up and wanting him to confirm whether she’d actually left a mark, so she just said, “I’m hanging up now. Send the info if you want me to go.”

            He let out a quiet, deep laugh and said, “Coming your way, TB.”





Chapter

SIX





Hallie pushed the door and exited Starbucks, glad she’d decided to show up a little early. She felt ridiculously nervous about talking to so many people, all in a row, and she needed a big old cup of caffeine to soothe her nerves.

            Surely that couldn’t backfire, right?

            She was meeting Jack outside the coffee shop at 7:40 p.m., and then they were going to walk two blocks down to the bar where the speed dating event was occurring. But before she could give the night another fleeting thought, there he was.

            He walked down the sidewalk with long strides, and she realized as she watched him approach that he was even more attractive than she’d remembered.

            He was tall, dark-haired, and handsome; she’d remembered that. But there was something about his face that screamed mischief. His eyes positively crackled as he looked around the entrance, presumably for her, and then they crinkled at the corners when he saw her and smiled.

            Hot damn—it was ridiculous how gorgeous he was.

            Wrong, actually. Positively unfair to the rest of the human race.

            Thank God he was just her partner in crime, because he had the kind of face that left piles of broken hearts and the occasional bra behind.

            “Wow. You look incredible, Tiny Bartender.” His eyes dipped down to her fuzzy black sweater and jeans, and she didn’t feel like he was checking her out but rather genuinely just saying she looked good that night.

            Hallie rolled her eyes and said, “You only think I’m hot because we bonked.”

            He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a thing?”